


Opium and Poison

by reclav



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reclav/pseuds/reclav
Summary: Skingrad has a new court alchemist, at the bequest of the count.
Relationships: Janus Hassildor & Vicente Valtieri
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Opium and Poison

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Vicente is a court alchemist in Skingrad, helping Janus find a cure for his wife, but actually using it as a cover for his connections to the Dark Drotherhood and his role of executioner. I was thinking that in-game this would reflect as him 1. Not being present at the Cheydinhal Sanctuary and 2. Not dying in the purification and 3. Being a contact for high paying customers and nobility for the DB, you'd probably get quests from him after Ocheeva's but before Lucien's, and after the questline he can be found in Castle Skingrad recruiting new members as "apprentices".   
> ANYWAYS . This is it this is the fic. I might continue this but idk yet.  
> (Also i know court Wizards are the thing in ES but lets pretend that also court Alchemists/physicians are common)

Janus watches the black carriage roll into the courtyard with wary eyes.

A new court alchemist, one who claimed to be able to cure Rona, much needed in Skingrad- one who came from the ashlands of Vvardenfell.

He didn't have a Dunmer name; an Imperial, perhaps. He watches the carriage roll to a stop, and immediately footmen begin to unload the passenger's belongings, two large, heavy trunks from the top, and an oblong crate from the back.

The passenger dismounts; Janus' eyes narrow.

He's dressed in long black robes, sleeves trimmed with extravagant ruffles of lace and ribbon, his coat lined with ermine. His face is obscured by his parasol, just as opulent as he with beaded fringe around the edges in the style of mainland Morrowind women's attire. His robes are distinctly Breton, and Janus suddenly feels a cool chill run through him as the man looks up at the window he watches from, and a cruel smile breaks across a pale, gaunt face framed by long ashen brown tresses, pink eyes set within deep purpling sockets.

Janus can't help but gasp and pull back from the window.

A vampire.

By the Divines.

+++

Vicente is charming, effortlessly so.

The Breton is small, his frame constantly kept hidden beneath heavy robes, doublets, capes and cloaks. His hair is kept tied back from his face except after working hours, when Janus sees him loosen the ribbon that keeps it tied back.

Janus would be ashamed to admit he stares when he does.

Vicente is also a kind, warm person to rely on.

He stands by Janus when Rona's condition worsens, telling him gently that she is too far gone, and he must depart if he cannot heal her.

"Reversing the gift would kill her. Restoration magic will not soothe her suffering. A cure would overwhelm her frail condition," he says, voice low and soft in Janus' ear. His hands are on his shoulders, a reassuring weight to Janus as he watches Rona, still as the grave, on what is now her deathbed.

"My lord, if I cannot heal her, I must ask your permission to leave your court. I could not fulfil my purpose here."

"Stay," Janus says, before he can even think of why he says it. "Stay."

Vicente looks down at him with widened eyes.

"My lord?"

"I've come to trust you, as someone who shares in my condition. You know our kind's struggle well. You know the pain Rona endures. Stay. If she ever recovers, she will have use of your support. I failed her. You would not."

Janus had risen from his seat, and is gripping his hands tightly now.

They're slender and smaller than his, cold as the grave. His nails are long and lacquer black. His many rings adorn his fingers.

Vicente's breath hitches.

"Then stay I shall." He looks into Janus' murky claret eyes with his dusty pink ones. He quickly drops Janus' hands, as if they're aflame.

"Goodnight, my lord. Sleep well."

He leaves in a swish of elegant gray fox furs, and Janus can smell his perfume as he walks past him. Dried flowers, volatile elemental salts, the wet scents of moss and nirnroot. The apothecary, and dust.

Janus watches him leave, and doesn't look away for a long time.

+++

He has taken to sharing conversation with Vicente by the dimming hearth in the small hours of the morning. 

Vicente talks about Vvardenfell, of his studies before and after he had contracted vampirism.

"I had all the time in the world now; why not continue my research? So I did- fifty or so years, published under a pseudonym, of the properties of black lichen and its genealogical ties to other similar species found in Dwemer ruins." Vicente smiles. "Shortly afterwards, I returned to Cyrodiil, with a lucrative job offer."

"Mine?"

"No." Vicente pours the last drops of ruby red liquid out of the warmed decanter. "This was perhaps… two hundred years ago? A guild of sorts, they also had need of an Alchemist, and being a vampire was an added bonus, it seems like." 

Janus takes the silver goblet.

"To opportunity." 

"To opportunity." 

They drink in silence for a few moments.

Then Vicente gets up, and taking a damp rag from a nearby bucket filled with soapy water, he cleans his goblet, before drying it with a clean cloth. The water turns a soft shade of cloudy pink.

"Well, I must be getting to bed. It was a pleasure having you tonight, my lord."

"Janus." 

"Hm?" Vicente turns towards him.

Janus' tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and he almost feels the ghost of heat creep over his face. 

"Call me Janus. You don't- you don't have to be so formal. I have come to see you as a friend. A confidante."

Vicente tilts his head, and nods, a pretty curl to his lip.

"Janus." He says it as though he is sampling its taste in his mouth. " _ Janus _ ."

It makes Janus' undead heart seem to twist into knots.

"Yes. Yes." He breathes out.

"It's a rather nice name, isn't it?" Vicente hums thoughtfully. "Well, I bid you goodnight, Janus. Sleep well, my dear friend."

Janus nods, somewhat dumbly. He leaves Vicente's quarters not looking back once, but all the while, he can feel that same supernatural gaze on his back.


End file.
